


big, cool, grizzled and... something else

by klanstability (Shanimalx)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Extended Metaphors, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance likes the new Keith, M/M, Metaphors, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 06, To a point, Voltron: Legendary Defender Season/Series 07 Fix-It, both of them are so dubmbbbbb, does this count as, he just hasn't realized how much yet, jacket swap, like super mutual except theyre both dumb, lots of em - Freeform, now that its been so goddamn long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shanimalx/pseuds/klanstability
Summary: Just a couple things: Keith is back and Lance says some pretty embarrassing things, but he's thinking of evenmoreembarrassing things, and Keith's new "look" isnothelping and it's all just a huge mess that Lance doesn't really have a name for.Then he lends Keith his jacket and Lance finally knows what it is. (Kinda.)





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> what was supposed to be a lil 1.5k drabble spat out on a 4 hour car ride in the aftermath of season 6 became this _thing_ with a disgusting amount of italics and em-dashes and ellipses and run on sentences (could you tell?) that i am only posting the first HALF bc ive been staring at it for too long and season 7 is right around the corner and its giving me anxiety so now here it is to celebrate 1000 followers
> 
> enjoy

It happens like this:

When Keith's face appears on the screen, the first thing Lance notices is his face. I mean, _obviously_. But more specifically its shape. It's long and smooth and sharp in all the right places. The lines of his jaw may as well cut directly through the holoscreen--and his gaze too for that matter--and his hair is so long it’s curling around his neck like goddamn jewelry.

Have his shoulders always taken up that much of the screen? Maybe it's just because he's so used to seeing Keith stand over in the right corner like Kolivan’s sidekick. Lance tries to conjure Kolivan in Keith's place, but it's really hard to do with what's currently in front of him.

When everyone else is voicing their reactions to this spontaneous appearance, all Lance can bring himself to say is, "Does he look...bigger to you guys?"

* * *

When Keith steps out of his pod--with an alien woman that looks a _lot_ like him, some kind of wolf-thing, and is that an Altean???--gracing them with his physical presence for the first time in god knows how long, the difference is _so_ obvious. If Lance thought his Blade suit was skin-tight before, it now hugs his muscles like a wet frickin' towel. He lifts himself out with toned arms and steps down with long legs and that _fucking_ hair--

Lance is momentarily speechless as the air leaves his lungs and the whole hangar drops a few degrees.

Shiro says something, but it’s lost to Lance as his feet move of their own accord to meet Keith halfway. He's the first one of them to approach. The first one to get this close in weeks... months? How long has it been? Lance's skin itches.

"Hold on," he says, "how do we know you're the real Keith--" Because this man in front of him can't surely be the same cranky, hot-headed pilot that he'd gone to school with. Well, they _all_ kinda became different people the moment they left the Garrison in the dust behind the Blue Lion, but this Keith is _extra_ different.

The mullet that he'd recognize anywhere? It's, uh... beautiful now? Where Lance had always had the urge to sneak into Keith’s room at night and cut it all off when he was sleeping now lies the desire to run his fingers through it to see if it’s really as soft as it looks. The holoscreen didn't do it justice.

And those shoulders are _definitely_ broader. Like, beginning-to-rival-even-Shiro broad. They're squared and held back with a confidence that smacks Lance upside the face and he feels like he's just been woken up by a bucket of cold water.

And before he can stop himself, the rest slips out, "--and not his bigger, cooler, grizzled older brother?" Grizzled?? Come on, Lance! Does he even have a brother??

He regards Keith with a teasing scrutiny that would have surely gotten a rise out of him in the past, or at least a weak smirk and a dramatic eye roll. But this isn't the same Keith. This one brushes past him with those strong shoulders and tosses him a terse, "I don't have time for this, Lance."

The cold poison of disappointment strikes his heart and his face drops. After so long, you'd think Keith would be happy to see him them. A round of hugs, to match the one he'd left them all with.

But apparently there’s a murderous prince on the loose that’s harvesting members of his own race for magical alien energy, and they need to go after him and stop his evil plot or whatever.

Still, the sound of his name on Keith's bigger, cooler, grizzled tongue is a sweet one that squeezes Lance’s heart dry.

* * *

It’d be remiss not to mention that seeing Keith on screen again made him feel better than hugging Allura did.

* * *

He nearly forgets about it all until they're chasing-slash-fighting Lotor and his generals. _Holy crow_ does it feel good to fly next to Keith again. He maneuvers the Black Lion like he never left, like he was born to do it, and it's honestly an honor just watching him.

And when they form Voltron-- _god_ what a rush. Keith at the controls of Voltron's head feels _so_ much different than Shiro. It feels cleaner, reinvigorating like a nice cold glass of water, or like breaking through the surface to take that first deep inhale after being underwater, or like someone injecting... fucking _jet fuel_ straight into his heart.

It's probably mostly due to the fact that Shiro wasn't _actually Shiro_ , but it takes all of Lance's strength not to gush into the comms about how much he missed this.

* * *

When Keith carries Shiro's body out of the Black Lion, he looks positively wrecked. Both of them do. Lance's body feels like a drought, scorched and dry, his mouth suddenly sticky and sour.

There's a ringing in his ears. His home for the last few months has condensed into a single, shining diamond. His childhood hero, dead. Then resurrected, but not the same. Lance blames himself.

It isn't until later that his eyes catch on the sharp pink wound that mars Keith’s right cheek.

* * *

He's staring at it. It wasn't there when Keith stepped out of the pod with his mom and dog and new friend. It _was_ there when he stepped out of the Black Lion with Shiro's lifeless body.

It's a scar, he can see that much. It's pink and shiny and pulls (unattractively) at the rest of Keith's cheek when he smiles too wide (Lance has had the pleasure of seeing this exactly twice so far, and he's determined to cause a third). It reminds Lance of the one that runs across the bridge of Shiro's nose. Not from a cut or a gash, but something more like… a burn?

Keith is doing... something. He's looking down at a holopad, and his bangs are fluttering like a curtain in front of his face and his dark lashes fan out beautifully from under them. He's saying something. Lance should probably be listening.

But he can't stop staring. Every time Keith turns his face, it's like looking at a different person. And after the whole face-hair-shoulders thing, it's especially jarring. He doesn't know why. After everything the team has been through, he supposes he should have known they wouldn't all come out unscathed.

It's pink and smooth and _warm_. He knows this because he's touching it now, the pads of his fingers gently tracing the puckered skin down to the jawline.

Keith flinches, and Lance's breath catches in his throat. _Oops_. Keith looks up at him from under those eyelashes with a guarded stare.

Lance chokes out, "What happened?" It's scratchy because his throat is dry again.

Keith's eyes skirt over his face. Lance doesn't know what he's looking for, but he keeps his expression open, apologetic. Keith mutters, "Nothing," and continues talking about... whatever it was. Lance tries to remember not to bring it up again.

* * *

Lance looks up from his bowl of alien oatmeal (much more appetizing than food goo, as most everything is, but he admits kinda misses the stuff) to find Keith standing over him. He’s frighteningly tall until he pulls out the chair next to Lance and sits down in it. He’s smiling. Lance has a mouth full of space oatmeal that he’s having trouble swallowing.

Keith grabs the ladle out of the oatmeal pot in front of him and fills his bowl. They’ve done this before. Space breakfast is the same no matter what planet is hosting them or what they’re serving, and Keith has sat next to him _so many times_ , but now his heart is pounding faster than a jackrabbit because _Keith has bedhead_.

There’s a lock of hair sticking up at the back of his head that Lance’s eyes are drawn to, and it’s just _calling_ to him. ‘ _Lance! Fix me! Put your hand on his head and pat me down! It’s what a good friend would do! Fix meeee!’_

Until Keith runs his hand through his hair and it all behaves again, and Lance’s desire is quelled.

For now.

* * *

It takes him a while to figure out why looking at Keith feels… _weird_ now.

He _used_ to glance in Keith’s direction and scowl whenever Keith looked back.

He _used_ to burn holes at the back of Keith’s head with his glares, silently daring him to do _something_ for them to bicker about.

He _used_ to feel his skin crawl and his stomach flip as irritation slowly rose up just because they were in the same room as each other.

He wants to say it’s because Keith is different now. That the events of the past few months have changed them all irreversibly. That being so far away from Keith for so long has tricked Lance’s brain into thinking that maybe his memories about how they used to be were actually wrong. Like when you watch your absolute _favorite_ childhood movie again after so many years only to realize it’s like, actual crap. And suddenly your childhood is ruined.

Settling back into that friendly rivalry they had just wouldn’t cut it anymore. It wasn’t enough to fling insults and argue back and forth anymore because when it was all said and done--and oh god, sometimes even _before_ Shiro would tell them to _just shut up already_ \--Keith would _smile_ at him. He’d smile! He never smiled before!! I mean, he has, but never in an argument! They aren’t nearly as satisfying when one of the people arguing _smiles_!!

He gives Lance such a--

It’s small, just barely a quirk of his lips as the corners of his mouth tease up ever so slightly. But his eyebrows move differently? And it changes his entire face. They don’t crowd over his eyes and cast shadows like his bangs do, they’re angled up and his eyes are fucking _twinkling_ and it turns into such a blindingly disarming grin that the fire in Lance’s heart explodes into a raging inferno of… something.

Something different. But also the same?

No, this is _definitely_ the same fire that’s always been there. The fire that Keith had lit back at the Garrison by being a dumb show-off that Lance just _had_ to beat. Lance had to make him notice that he could be great too. He had to make Keith see that he wasn’t untouchable. It was the Keith Fire.

But if it’s same fire that has been burning for years, why does it feel so different now?

Lance _used_ to be unafraid to feel the heat of that gaze on him.

Maybe it’s because he’s starting to wonder if Keith might have a fire too?

* * *

It clicks later that looking at Keith is _also_ weird because he’s not where he usually is.

Now, standing next to Keith as they receive a briefing, he looks to his left and Keith’s eyes aren’t there anymore. That is, they’re not where they _should_ be.

They’re a little more than an inch higher.

When Lance looks over, his eyes fall on Keith’s lips, and they rest there for probably longer than they should. He takes a slow inhale, flicks his eyes up to Keith’s--trained straight ahead, focused on the briefing like they should be, higher than they should be, prettier than they should be--

Lance lets out his breath to quell his suddenly fluttering heart. He can change this. Turn it into a competition again. Get everything back to normal. He straightens his back and stretches his neck up as high as he can and he turns back to listen to whatever Allura’s saying. (He’s been doing that a lot lately? Like, looking at Keith instead of listening.)

Keith catches the movement, and out of the corner of his eye Lance sees him do that smile thing again.

* * *

This whole… _thing_ is getting very inconvenient. It's making it _really_ hard for Lance to focus when he’s paired with Keith for combat drills because Keith’s hair is getting even longer and he hasn’t cut it yet and it cascades marvelously down his forehead and into his eyes.

So he ties it up.

So then when Keith moves in to disarm him in a maneuver that they’ve done a million times and that Lance saw coming a million miles away and could block in his sleep, he’s disarmed by what he sees so much sooner than by Keith’s movements.

Keith recognizes Lance’s hesitation a second too late--tries to stop and pull back so he doesn’t actually cut Lance’s hand off with his sword because Lance’s bayard isn’t there to block it yet. He grips Lance's wrist to catch himself, but he’s got too much momentum, and suddenly Lance is lying on the ground and Keith is on top of him and they are very, _very_ close.

Lance's face flushes harder than one of those vacuum toilets on airplanes and suddenly it's a million degrees out here. Who thought it was a good idea to make a rest stop on this stupid hot planet with its stupid hot sun anyway? (It was Lance's idea, he was hungry and wanted to dig through Pidge's snack stash.)

It's the first time they've touched--like, _touched_ touched--since Keith got back. Even through his suit Lance can feel his skin burning at the contact, and he tries not to think about the lean chest beneath that armor. Or the powerful arms that are shifting the two of them to get up off the ground and reaching out to help him up, or that-- _fuck_ . That soft smile Keith gives him when they-- _fuck_ !! When they hold hands. _Clasp_ hands.

A lock of Keith's hair has escaped his hair tie and it falls across his face like a taunt and Lance wants to brush it away, but he's got his bayard in one hand and Keith's hand in his other.

"Let's take it from the top," and Keith lets go.

If he notices that Lance is a bit more... clingy from then on, he doesn't mention it.

* * *

Oh, Lance _clings_.

He _constructs intricate rituals that allow him to touch the skin of other men_ (Keith) and all that junk.

He tries really, _really_ hard to pass it off as casual every time, to hang off of Hunk or put his arm around Pidge just as often, but the fact of the matter is that it’s not the same because Keith _hums_. Not, like, with his mouth. He’s actually pretty bad at singing.

Keith’s _body_ hums. And it makes _Lance’s_ body hum.

Humming when Lance rests his hand on Keith’s shoulder as a gesture of camaraderie (like he does with everyone, right?).

Humming when he lets himself reach just a little further than necessary to grab the holopad he’s being given so that their fingers overlap a bit in the exchange.

Humming when Keith claps him on the back saying “Great job out there today, Lance”, and Lance can feel Keith’s skin tingle on top of his and god, it just makes Lance’s body _sing_.

He _tries so_ hard to ignore it, tells himself it doesn’t mean anything, but then Keith sits next to him--just sits!--and the humming is still there, transmitted through just a shared cushion, or god it might as well just be in the air! No contact needed!

* * *

Keith and Lance both uncover something _very_ interesting when they stop to restock and refuel on a planet that stays a _balmy_ 40°F year-round. After spending a whole week passing by the local star cluster to get here, they've all acclimatized to the sweltering micro-climates of their lions where--surprise!--there's no AC. It’s like stepping into a damned freezer. Hunk and Pidge are prepared and wrap themselves in their vest and hoodie before bounding off to scavenge the local markets for new tech, but Lance stays in the landing hangar, eyeing the gaping mouth of the Black Lion. Keith hasn’t come out yet.

He waffles for exactly two seconds before jogging up the ramp. He’s been in the Black Lion only twice before, but this is the first time that 1/5 of the castle’s furniture and cargo is clogging the hallways. When he finally navigates the maze of stacked crates and piles of junk to the cockpit, he finds Keith standing quietly in front of an open box. He holds his signature red jacket out in front of him and looks almost… sad.

Lance sidles up next to him. Keith’s height’s still a little disorienting, but he pushes the thought out of his head for now. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

Keith lets out a (cute) little huff. “It doesn’t fit,” and gives a pout.

Lance is suddenly overwhelmed with everything he’s noticed (everything he’s been subconsciously filing away?): taller, longer, bigger, wider.

How had it never occurred to him that Keith’s old clothes wouldn’t fit the same anymore?

More importantly, how had he let himself get so distracted by the image of Keith in that (tight) black t-shirt that he didn’t immediately recognize the glaring absence of that stupidly short jacket? It would have made such prime teasing material!

And then he’s reminded of how different things are now. If he’d noticed earlier, if it had been brought to his attention, would he really have rubbed it in Keith’s face as much as he thinks he would have? Would he…?

Without his permission, a solution bubbles up. “Do you...want to borrow mine?” Lance almost regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but then a tinge of color blooms across Keith’s cheeks.

“Really? Don’t you need it?”

But Lance is already taking it off, miles ahead of any hesitation that could be trying to sneak up on him. “I’ve got long sleeves. I’ll be fine.”

He holds it out between them. They both stare at it. There’s something else in the air there. An enigma hidden in the folds, shoved into the sleeves. If Keith accepts the jacket, he accepts the Something Else, too. The Something Else that made Lance offer up the jacket and follow through with actually taking it off. The Something Else that makes Lance want to flatten Keith's bedhead and tuck away rogue locks and touch him more than he should just to feel the hum. The Something Else that fuels the Keith Fire.

And because Lance has actually been consumed with the thought of it lately, maybe even the Something Else that makes Keith smile the way he has been.

* * *

They’re not really sure how long they stand there.

But, slowly, eventually, Keith reaches out and gathers the material in his hand. “Thanks.”

He swings it around his back, and the air electrifies. He slips his arms down the sleeves, and Lance can barely contain the static energy building inside him. Then Keith pulls it tighter around him and straightens the collar and the sight of Keith’s dark hair spilling across his white hood like an ornament feels like a thousand volts straight to his heart.

And _then_ , Keith looks up with one of _those_ smiles--but not really? Because this one is _full_ . It’s big and everything Keith has ever given him before feels like just a grain of sand on a beach--no, like an _atom._ In a _sand molecule._ In a _desert_! His knees wobble and Lance could melt on the spot.

He tries really, _really_ hard not to.

Seeing Keith in his jacket is a bucket list item he never thought he’d cross off. Hell, he didn’t even know it was _on_ the list until it was eligible for crossing-off.

He feels compelled to observe this phenomenon as long as he can. They follow each other around the market in an unspoken agreement not to wander too far away. Lance thinks he recognizes it as part of the Something Else. With how close Keith stands to him as they browse a fruit cart, hands dug too far deep into pockets for any _clasping_ (but the possibility still there!), Lance hopes Keith does too.

Then, when Lance is sitting next to Kaltenecker in the pilot’s seat of the Red Lion as they’re flying away, another part of the Something Else makes itself known.

In the form of a single word that manifests in the far corner of his brain and sends his stomach swooping.

 _Date_.

* * *

It’s slow.

But it _is_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> potential part two is in the works! when they might almost sort of kiss maybe??!!
> 
> theres now at least 1000 of you rascals following me, and if you aren't one of them... well, [what are you waiting for](https://klanstability.tumblr.com/post/176014277397/big-cool-grizzled-and-something-else-klance)??
> 
> and since i tend to shamelessly self promo literally everywhere way too much, i'd love it if y'all could let me know (either here or my [ask](https://klanstability.tumblr.com/ask)) how you got here (a tumblr post, a discord server, a rec list, a tag search, etc) it'd be cool to know where my audience comes from!


	2. part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you thought it was over? no, that was just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at long fucking last!!! god this last part gave me so much trouble but thanks to some wonderful betas such as [Xirayn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xirayn) and [wildlifepixie](http://wildlifepixie.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, it's finally something i'm actually kind of okay with now ~
> 
> this is officially the longest _finished_ fic ive ever written.
> 
> bon appetit

When they make another pit-stop on their planet-hopping adventure back to Earth, Pidge makes a compelling argument in favor of sleeping overnight.

“It’ll be like camping!” she’d said, and suddenly everyone was agreeing and pulling their blankets out and settling down into a circle.

So they’re sleeping outside tonight, under the watchful eyes of their lions and the soft covers of their blankets. It’s a nice place they’ve chosen--breathable atmosphere, quiet, open fields, and a mild climate. Lance would almost believe it was Earth, if not for the 12 moons in the sky.

He closes his eyes and tries to believe it anyway.

A second later--but actually not really because it’s dark and there’s an entirely different set of moons above them now and _wow_ is it disorienting--he’s being woken up by a gentle hand on his shoulder and a harsh whisper in his ear.

“Lance.”

Lance blinks up in irritation and groans. Interrupted sleep cycles means dark eye bags in the morning. Who the fuck does this dark blob think they are?

No, seriously, who is that?

Lance props himself up on his elbows and looks around at the other figures lying motionless around him: to his left, Pidge has migrated from her pile of pillows and blankets to curling up ~~on top of~~ next to Hunk, who doesn’t seem to mind much; across from him, Allura is dozing quietly next to her mice, and Coran not-so-quietly next to her; and to Lance’s right, Shiro lays still as a plank in the same exact position he was in hours ago and Keith… Keith’s spot is empty. His blanket is crumpled up to the side of his pillow. Because he’s crouched over Lance’s.

Lance tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but he can only do so much at who-knows-when-o’clock. “Keith?”

Keith’s voice is low and rough. “Get up, I wanna show you something.”

As his eyes adjust, Lance can see Keith’s form better--he’s got an extra blanket or something draped across his shoulders that he’s clutching tightly against the slight chill in the air, and those are definitely cute little lion slipper ears poking out beneath his knees. Keith has always sworn he’d be the last person to be seen in them, so Lance wonders if he’d brought them out with the rest of his sleep things earlier and none of them noticed, or if he’d ventured back into the Black Lion to fetch them before waking Lance. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter because it’s _very cute_ and Lance sends a billion thanks to whatever space deity is out there for making this the first thing he saw when he woke up.

Keith stands and stage-whispers again, “Come on,” and _oh my god_ that’s not a blanket, he’s wearing Lance’s _jacket_ and Lance is _very_ much awake now.

It’s only just visible in the dark with Lance’s still-drowsy vision, but Keith is shoving his hands into pockets that _aren’t_ up by his armpits, and those are yellow stripes on the sleeves aren’t they? And that white hood up top? It looks just like Lance’s and Keith owns literally nothing else that hangs off him like that so there’s _literally nothing else_ it could be but Lance _still_ can barely believe it.

He’d actually forgotten that Keith still had it.

Keith had technically returned it after that glorious ~~first date~~ day in the marketplace, but in the weeks and months after, it had been passed back and forth between the two of them so many times that Lance wasn’t really sure he could call it his anymore. In fact, Keith--because he forgot to pick up a spare jacket at that last trading post, and then for a few days he kept _meaning_ to give it back but it always just slipped his mind, and then he kept forgetting how stubbornly chilly it could get in these lions of theirs in the void of space--wears it just as much as Lance does, if not more.

And now Keith is standing above Lance in his--their?--jacket, asking Lance to follow him to god-knows-where on an alien planet in the middle of the night. Past Lance, the Lance from the Garrison who followed Keith into that medical tent and who still thought the fire inside him was _only_ something, would have laughed flat in Keith’s face. Was he dreaming? Did they pass into an alternate universe? Yeah, right! Go back to sleep, man!

But present Lance, the Lance who’s seen firsthand what Keith looks like in that jacket, and heard firsthand how musical his laughter is, and felt firsthand the electricity that he emits, is already throwing off his sheets. Present Lance knows that what he’s seen and heard and felt is _not_ just _something_. Present Lance is pretty hopeful that present Keith knows this too.

So Lance follows him. He wraps himself up in his blanket, which he tells himself is to keep the night’s chill away, but really kinda knows it’s so he can curl up and hide the not-entirely-unwelcome warmth in his cheeks. Because, uh, Keith is wearing his jacket and they’re going off to be _alone_ together. Just the two of them. Again.

That one word runs circles in his brain like a broken news ticker.

 _Date date date date date date_ \--

* * *

Keith leads them away from their camp, along a winding path of beaten down shrubs until the soil gets sandy, and Lance mourns the integrity of his slippers’ fluff a little bit. The wind turns the air rough and acrid, and Lance can’t help but imagine that it’s coming off the sea and in through his bedroom window in Cuba. It makes a dull whooshing noise as it travels through the brush around them--or, no... The sound is coming from somewhere beyond the brush, carried by the wind like that salty smell, and now all Lance can think of is how much he misses Earth and the ocean and his family. Then Keith comes to a stop at the top of the hill. Lance steps up beside him and it’s like Keith’s read his goddamn mind.

Two of the moons they’d fallen asleep under are hanging low on the horizon, barely skimming the surface of the water that stretches out endlessly in front of them. They cast the most dazzling reflections and Lance feels the beginning of tears prickling in his eyes. Keith brought him to a _beach_.

His breath catches in his throat when he tries to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith turn to him, and Lance just _knows_ he’s smiling _that_ smile, the one that actually reaches his eyes, and the thought of it does Something Else to his chest.

He swallows thickly and manages to choke out, “Wow”. It’s soft and his voice cracks a little, but Keith echoes the sentiment with a breathy, “Yeah”.

They watch the dark water undulate and lap at the shore at the bottom of their hill for a while as they stand in silence. Keith is the first to break it.

“I realized the other day that we haven’t really talked much since-” There’s a measured pause as he tries to put their last few months into words, quite possibly for the first time. “-- _everything,_ I guess. Just the two of us, I mean.”

In such a peaceful setting, the banter comes easily, as if Keith had never left. Like none of ‘everything’ had ever happened. “So you have the brilliant idea wake me up in the middle of the night to do it?” he says with a smile.

Lance can just make out the small flush that breaks across Keith’s cheeks. He shrugs and pulls the jacket tighter around him. “I didn’t want us to be interrupted,” he says softly.

There’s suddenly a loud rush in his ears that isn’t the ocean, and Lance has to take a steadying breath. He doesn’t want to miss whatever Keith says next because his dumb heart is too excited.

“Plus,” Keith continues, “I know how much you love the beach, so I thought you’d appreciate this.” He gestures out to the water, but Lance’s eyes are still on him.

“Oh.”

There’s like a science reason or something that explains how people can see the moon at night, even though the sun isn’t up and it doesn’t emit its own light. This general concept is all Lance can think of when he looks at the boy beside him. Keith _glows_ in the moonlight. He’s not physically emitting any light of his own through freaky Galra bio-luminescence or whatever, nor is the moonlight _itself_ its own light source. And yet Keith _glows_.

Standing here on this planet, he and Keith are millions of miles away from the real light source. The star that’s currently on the other side of the planet is pouring out its energy for light years in every direction, burning at billions of degrees and shining at hundreds of thousands of millions of lumens, and Keith is standing in the reflection _of its reflection_ and _still_ glowing brighter.

Keith hums, and he glows. He’s simultaneously a live wire and the light bulb it powers.

When Keith sits on the ground, Lance unconsciously follows him down, eyes now locked on the horizon. Lance wants to thank him. He wants the words to get the fuck out of his mouth so that Keith can hear them, so Keith can know how much this means to him, how much he loves this, how much he loves _him_.

Oh. Hm.

It’s an unexpected thought, but not unwelcome. The fire in his chest crackles delightfully at it.

Keith is somewhat turned in on himself as he sits--legs tucked into his chest, chin resting on his knees as he looks out at the water--but he looks comfortable. Lance realizes it’s been a long time since he’s has seen his shoulders so loose.

He’s about to ask what it was Keith wanted to talk about when Lance’s gaze catches on his scar again. In the glow of the moons, it looks foreign. Well, it’s always sort of looked foreign to Lance, but after seeing it there for the long months they’d been spending together, it had just started become... a part of him. Like how freckles or curly hair can become like someone’s trademark, a trait that’s so inherently _them_ , they just wouldn’t be the same without it. It became like a brand, marking that the old Keith was gone.

But Lance is nothing if not curious and obnoxious, and now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t _stop_ thinking about how he still doesn’t know where it came from.

When he asked about it that one time a few days after they fought Lotor and got Shiro’s soul back in his body and everything--the time he touched it _entirely by accident_ ?--Keith had quietly brushed him off. He’d barely met Lance’s eyes, and  quickly changed the subject. Even though it had been _literally_ killing him not to know, Lance didn’t need to be told twice. He’d stared holes in it and contemplated it every day after, he never brought it up again.

But now? There’s something in the air--maybe it’s the salt of the ocean wind, or the silence of their solitude, or the Something Else--that makes him certain that if he asked again, he’d get an answer.

So he does.

And when Keith tells him, his eyes stay glued to horizon, and his legs stay tightly tucked into his chest. Lance feels like he’s being let in on his deepest, darkest secret, finally getting past those walls. Except... what’s on the other side is something that never should have been walled up in the first place.

* * *

Shiro did it. Well, not _their_ Shiro, but still Shiro. An evil, mind-controlled Shiro that looked and sounded just like normal, not-evil Shiro. It was like something straight out of a nightmare.

And then Keith has the gall to ask “Are you doing okay, Lance?”

Lance splutters. “Wh--I should be asking _you_ that!” Like yeah, the last few months have been a really rough time for all of them, probably their _worst collective experience_ since they left Earth, but what Keith just described to him? _Wow_.

Like, he knew that whatever shit went down with Shiro was a Big Deal, but he’d had _no idea_ what Keith had gone through to get him back. Lance had been so glad when Keith made it back to them after he followed Shiro through that worm hole, and even happier when Allura was able to bring Shiro--the good Shiro--back to them for good. But now that he knew what that had really been like, what little joy he’d found in those moments in the tragedy that had become their lives was burned to a crisp.

“Have you been just sitting with all that this entire time? How are you not dead from stress!?”

Keith chuckles, but it’s weak and restrained. “No, I’m fine now.” He takes a deep breath and nods. “I’m good.”

He almost sounds like he’s trying to reassure himself too.

“Shiro’s back--the real Shiro--I found my mom… no, I’m okay now.” He clears his throat and glances meekly at Lance. “But I know it hasn’t exactly been a joy ride for anyone else either. You guys haven’t seen your families in so long, and here I am coming back to the team with my _alien mom_ , and dragging you all around to get Shiro back _again_ … And I know how much your family means to you, so it can’t be fun to--”

Keith gestures weakly, letting the sentence finish itself. His eyes skirt over Lance, never stopping to rest in one place for too long, and never seeming to land anywhere near Lance’s own eyes. It has Lance’s stomach dropping. Keith feels--after all _that_ , after being orphaned and bullied and losing his brother due to “pilot error”, and then losing him in the fight with Zarkon, and then losing him _again_ to Haggar’s weirdo witch magic--Keith feels _guilty_ to get his family back?

“Keith,” Lance starts quietly, but Keith won’t let him continue.

“I just wanted to say--I wanted you to know that all this--” Keith gestures to the water again, but it’s a much wider motion this time. For whatever reason, Lance thinks he might be including the Something Else in “this” as well.

Keith lets out a big sigh. “I guess I mostly wanted to say I’m here for you if you need me. I mean like outside of Voltron stuff… I’m here if--if you ever needed to talk. Or whatever.”

Lance isn’t really sure what else to say besides, “Oh.” This whole situation feels just… backwards. _He_ should be the one telling _Keith_ all this. _He_ should be the one telling _Keith_ not to bottle shit up because ‘that’s what friends are for’, and that he’s the Red Paladin and his right hand man, and it’s practically his _job_.

“You--you…” Keith hesitates.

But before Lance can ask “me what?”, he plants his face in his arms and groans into his elbow. “I’m not really sure how to say it, it’s hard to put into words. And I’m… not good at this stuff.”

Lance rests his chin on his arms too, and his eyes come to rest on the ears of Keith’s slippers again, poking up out of the grass. He can’t help but smile a little bit at the sight of them next to his own.

Keith picks his head up with a huff and buries it in his hands. “You know when I first got into the Black Lion?” he asks through his fingers.

Lance sits in silence for a few seconds before he realizes the question isn't rhetorical. “...Yeah?”

Keith runs his hands up through his hair, and then they seem to take on a mind of their own, waving this way and that as he talks. “And it was really hard for me because I wasn’t ready to be the team leader, but I didn’t wanna let you guys down, and I also didn’t want to admit that we might _never_ find Shiro, and then there was the whole thing with chasing down Lotor--”

Lance rests a hand on Keith’s arm to steady it before it ends up smacking him in the face. “Yeah, man, I know. I was there. Don’t stress yourself out.”

But Keith rips it away to point at him. “That!”

“I--what?”

“That!” Keith says again, pointing harder. “You! Doing what you just did!”

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Lance says, eyebrows pinched, but Keith just plows on.

“--and telling me to respect the Black Lion’s decision, and telling me that none of you would give up Shiro either, just--believing in me.” Keith shrugs weakly and pulls the jacket tighter around him. “Lending me your jacket,” he continues, softer now. “I wanna be that.” He’s not making eye contact anymore and Lance isn’t sure how he feels about that.

“Okay..?”

“For you,” Keith says, even softer.

“Oh.”

And then a switch is flipped.

_Ohhh._

Lance is grateful that the darkness is hiding the flush in his cheeks. He clears his throat. “You don’t need to.” He--really, Lance is happy to do all that stuff for Keith. He doesn’t need any of it returned. Keith-- _just Keith_ \--is enough.

That shaggy hair is enough. Those two extra centimeters are enough. Those gentle smiles are _more_ than enough. Wearing Lance’s jacket is enough. Sitting next to him is enough, feeling that hum, seeing that glow is enough. It’s all enough!

A meteor could fall from the sky this very second and collide with the planet, sending it hurtling out of the star system and crashing into its own moons and raining ash and flaming rocks into the atmosphere and killing everything instantly, and _fuck_ . Lance would kinda be okay with that. Because he got to see Keith smile, and he got to feel Keith’s arms around him, and he got to see Keith in _his jacket._

Now if only he could put this whole messy bundle of squirming Something Else that’s inside him into actual words…

And then Keith says, “But I want to.” and Jesus fuck if Lance’s heart doesn’t just explode.

Lance is about to say something--god knows what, though, because there’s still like a fucking log in his throat or something that he can’t seem to force the right words around--when Keith saves him the trouble.

“There’s… ssssomething.” The words drag together, like they’re navigating around their own throat log. “And it’s… it’s--here.” Keith puts his hand to his heart and Lance’s skips a beat. “And it makes me want to--”

Silence.

The world is quiet around them, save for the dull whoosh of the ocean ahead of them, and a distinct buzz in the air. It has Lance on the edge of his seat. Well, the grass. Alien--ground-foliage. Whatever.

“Part of me wants to think you feel it too. But I’m not sure.”

Part of him wants to--oh, _fuck_ . Lance wants to just scream, but Keith is still talking and there’s still a log in Lance’s throat, and now it’s dry too because of course it is. It’s dry because he’s been trying so hard to chop up that log and get it the hell out of his mouth that it’s just full of sawdust now, and it’s only made things worse, and Keith is _still talking_.

“But it doesn’t matter anyway because I wanna be here for you no matter what. I _am_ here. And I just--” He quiets and turns to Lance, _finally_ looks at him again. “I just wanted you to know that.”

It’s still dark, and Lance can only just see him in the moonlight, but Keith is glowing so bright, his throat log has vaporized.

“I do,” he says, his voice low and steady.

Whether Keith realizes it or or not, it’s his answer to both of the unanswered questions; he knows it, and he _feels_ It.

“Oh. Ok. Good.” He lets out a breath of air. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I was worried you wouldn’t understand.”

Oh, he understands alright. “Is it… like a fire?” Lance asks.

“Is what like a fire?”

“The something.” Lance motions to his heart, just like Keith did.

Keith pauses as he considers this. Then decisively, “No. Not really. It’s like... more like a flood. Like my chest is full of--I don’t know.” He chuckles softly and smiles to himself.

“When we first met, it was weird. It felt more like suffocating then. Like every time you opened your mouth I’d just be washed away and drowned in how insufferable you were being.”

“Wow, thanks,” Lance says dryly.

But Keith waves his hands at him. “No but--that’s the thing, I felt it _all the time._ And I still do, but its--” His hands pause in the air. “It’s not what I thought it was. It’s… something else.”

“Something else, huh?” Lance asks, breathless, smiling.

“Yeah.”

“How so?” It’s almost pointless to ask because Lance knows exactly how indescribable Something Else is, but he wants to hear Keith try anyway.

“Like… what I thought was suffocating is more like--” There’s a long pause before he runs his hands down his face. “I don’t know. Like… a hunger but different? Maybe… dehydration.” He swallows thick enough for Lance to hear. “And what felt like being washed away is more like being _swept_ away. If that makes sense. Like… like _you’re_ the flood, and I’m being swept away.” Keith makes violent eye contact with his knees again. “By you.”

“Really?” Lance’s voice is hushed and it cracks a little and it makes him sound like he could be excited. But only because he is! He _is_ excited! This is exciting! Keith has a fire too! (Except that his fire is a flood, but that’s besides the point.) It’s just the right kind of fuel that sends the Keith Fire roaring, and it ignites his whole body.

Keith gives a mirthless laugh and begins to rip up handfuls of alien grass. “God, now that I say it out loud it just sounds like a bunch of nonsense.”

The new heat in his veins gives Lance that last ounce of courage he’s been waiting so long for. “It's not,” he says with more conviction than he's had a long time. “It's really not, I _totally_ get it! Keith, you’re--” He takes a deep breath before the plunge. The plunge into the Lance Flood.

“You’re a fire.”

Keith pauses his lawn mowing and looks up at him which even in the dark Lance can see is one of his signature scowls. “What?”

“It’s not nonsense. I get it.”

“You do?” Keith sounds just a little bit hopeful and it sends adrenaline raging through him.

Lance nods frantically, like he’s afraid he’ll run out of time to get them all out. “Yeah, I feel it too.”

“You do?” Keith’s voice is softer this time but it still manages to do so much more to Lance. The fire’s burning as hot as it ever has, and it’s turning all his insides into a melted pile of goop.

When Lance nods and turns his attention back to the moons setting across the water, he lets go and the fire consumes him completely. He lets it guide his hands from his knees to rest behind him in the grass. He lets his fingers brush Keith's, and his soul ignites into a supernova.

* * *

Lance’s chest feels full to bursting--it aches with how happy he is in a way he’s never been happy before. They’ve just saved a planet or something--Lance can’t really remember. All he knows is he’s happy and he’s here and Keith’s _there_ , and he looks happy too.

As they exit their lions, Keith is only half way down his ramp when Lance breaks into a run. He leaps into Keith’s arms, who catches him, easily, and wraps him up tightly in those _arms_. Pulls him close. They're allowed to do this now. Lance doesn't have to hold back anymore, he can let himself go and actively _seek_ _out_ that hum.

Where their chests touch, Lance feels the energy pent up inside him spring free, explode outwards in a fit of laughter and yet stay carefully contained between the two of them. They might spin around once or twice, Lance is too dizzy with joy to remember.

Keith pulls back and looks Lance right in the eyes. They’re holding each other and smiling and there’s _not_ a crazy one-armed alien out to murder them, and everything in the universe is finally... _good_. They're close to home now, only a few more weeks out. Lance can hardly wait for Keith to meet his family.

Lance pushes Keith’s bangs out of his eyes with one hand and runs it down the back of his head to tangle in the ends of his hair, and he strokes Keith’s scar with the thumb of his other, and then he presses their lips together.

The fire in his chest flares brightly and sizzles and crackles fiercely under the flood that Keith unleashes.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! and for being patient if you've been here since august!
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://klanstability.tumblr.com).


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